


Curious Stories

by orphan_account



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bottom Lexa, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, Polis, Prompt Fill, Smut, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-05-29 14:29:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6379879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Clexa prompt fills. Canon & AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Wedding

_Prompt: Modern clexa au wedding._

_Song:_ _The Big Ship - Brian Eno_

 

The sounds of Alliance, Ohio blurred together into an early morning hum. The grind of the city made itself known with cars chuffing by and birds singing with wild abandon. But, that was out there and they were in here and nothing else mattered. Nothing. Clarke rolled over on to her other side in search of a cool bit of pillow, her eyes were barely open but somehow, right there in their rustle-y hotel bedsheets, she managed to see everything worth seeing in the history of all earthly things. The seven wonders of the world. She could map them out with her fingertips; the long wild tuft of hair that lived at the nape of Lexa's neck; the deep ridges of her shoulder blades; the mole that sat proud on the very apex of her pointer finger; the way her hips curved into legs that went on far past the scar on her knee that she swore blind she earned the day she fell for Clarke.

"Good morning." Lexa whispered.

"Hi there." Clarke grinned right into the kiss she pressed to Lexa's shoulder blades. "You still sure you want to go through with this?"

"You know, now you mention it…" Lexa earned a shove and a little laugh, it was the first of the day, hopefully the first of many. Clarke wrapped her arms around her waist, pulled her in tight and kept her just there. "Ah, that's the good stuff right there." she sighed.

A moment passed by and Lexa waited patiently for the words that started their day. The same sentence every morning for three and a half years, it was how she measured the passage of time. Today would be the big one, the thousandth. Of course, they never told anyone they planned an entire wedding around something as insignificant as the amount of times they'd rehearsed two small sentences to one another. They never told anyone that, but it was the truth.

"You love that girl?" Clarke whispered small and tight.

Lexa rolled and ended up on top of her, kissed the slope of her chin and the corner of her mouth. "Yeah, I love that girl." she whispered back, grinned into her lips and slipped her fingers inside of Clarke's fingers. "Let's not get out of bed today." she pressed herself and hid in the crook of Clarke's arm.

"Today's a big day."

"Let's call in sick."

"Call in sick to our wedding?"

"...I've had worse ideas." Lexa earned fingers jabbed into her gut, tickling away until thunderous laughter poured from her lungs and Clarke finally took pity on her. "Okay, okay!" she sighed, straightened herself and finally rolled out of bed. She moved for the bath towels. "I've got an opening in my diary from two till three-fifteen this afternoon." she threw a look over her shoulder and made her way for the bathroom door.

"I'll have my people call your people." Clarke yawned and flopped back down.

* * *

 

"Do you think I get one of those big keys to the city?" Lexa looked up at Anya as she wrangled with her boisterous hair. Her friend pulled and combed and controlled as much of the damage as she could. She yanked at tiny wild curls on the cusp of her hairline and pulled them into a neat plait. "I'm pretty sure I get a big key." Lexa mused, her head jolting back and forth.

"For marrying the mayor's daughter?" Anya eyed her in the mirror. "It doesn't work that way."

"Pretty big accomplishment by anyone's standards."

"You seriously want the key to the city for marrying a girl?" Anya moved to face her, eyeliner in hand.

"But what a girl she is." Lexa grinned, Anya grabbed her chin and tilted it back to run the eyeliner over her lids, she hated this part. None the less, she grinned and took it like a champ. "I hope they give me a big key." she sighed once more, a little more quietly.

She hides the slights of herself well. She keeps the tremor in her knee at bay and the churning in her stomach from spilling out and promises herself an extra glass of champagne for every hour she bares the daunting silence without Clarke. Her family and friends had come to collect her hours ago for the preparations and like a bullet the reality that the next time she saw her would be at the bottom of an alter tore through her.

"You look… beautiful." a choked up voice whispered from behind and the sounds of bags dropping to the floor echoed around the bedroom.

Lexa whipped round and thankfully, by the grace of god, Anya pulled the tip of the eyeliner away just in time to stop the bride messing up an hour's worth of make-up.

"Indra!" Lexa tore away from the chair and pulled her foster mother in for a hug. "I thought—" she stretched her glance and caught sight of Lincoln and Aden at the door. "You guys, you said the plane tickets—" tears welled up in her eyes and she would sooner die than let them drip drop down, a symptom of the years she spent tossed from home to home before Indra took her in. "I thought you couldn't make it." Lexa nodded and finally settled on the words.

"And miss my only daughter's wedding?" Indra stood a little taller, her eyes pulsing with a tiny bit of indignation. "I took extra shifts at the diner." she brushed it off like it was nothing when in fact, to Lexa, it was everything.

"Ma…" Lexa looked around and somehow swallowed it all back down.

"So you're finally marrying the hot brain doctor!" Lincoln jumped and flopped down on the king-sized bed, "About time." Aden soon followed and landed on his big brother's back wrestling him down. Lincoln let him, went along with it like an expert, they twisted and wrangled but Lincoln allowed the littlest of their lot to pin all two hundred and thirty pounds of himself to the mattress.

Aden looked up at his sister with pride, grunting and huffing out of breath from his seat on his brother's back. His best memories from when he was small were of watching Lexa and Lincoln wrestle and roughhouse in the garden whenever they were both home from tour. Only, Lexa's victories weren't pretend. "Was she in the army too, Lex?" he asked curiously.

"No." Lexa shook her head and smiled, "She patched me up, remember?"

Aden nods his head and doesn't say much more but he does all he can not to remember the state Lexa had found her way home to them in. The memories came to him like instincts, maybe smells, there were long drifting whiffs of hospital disinfectant and deep musty tones of Lexa learning to walk and talk again.

Clarke was there through it all, a constant in a sea of variables. An IED went off, shrapnel found its way in her skull, one traumatic brain injury later and she found herself in the ward of the woman who would be her wife one day. She told her as much, or at least she tried. It was incentive more than anything to learn how to sound out words and make the neurons fire back and forth between the tiny grey areas of brain that couldn't be salvaged. All so she could make a pass at a girl. But, what a girl she was.

"I think you're trying to flirt with me." Clarke had raised her brow one day and grinned as Lexa huffed and puffed her way through the arduous task of making consonants form on her tongue.

"Nuh-nuh-num," Lexa gritted her teeth another day and puffed out her chest. She lost her patience, threw a coffee mug off of her side table and watched it shatter against the whitewashed wall. Her jaw worked back and forth and she looked away, ashamed.

Clarke's fingers graced her shoulder and drew Lexa away from her bubbling anger. "Don't worry, I hate the coffee here too." Clarke commiserated quietly.

"Nu-num." Lexa huffed and tried once more. "Num-ber." she finally forced it out.

"Number?" Clarke repeated, astounded, shocked that the stubborn platoon commander in room twelve managed to form a whole word against the predictions of the attending surgeon who'd decided long ago she was beyond help.

Lexa had nodded her head, cheeks pink, chest puffing.

"You want my number?"

Lexa nodded again, certain this time, that was when it had all began.

"Lex," Aden pulled her away from her memories. He hopped off of Lincoln, wide eyed and hopeful in that way that told her he was about to ask a question.

"Yeah bud?"

"You know how a man is supposed to walk the girl down the aisle?" his brows furrowed with all the reservoirs of seriousness he'd saved up for this moment.

"Sure, I think I heard about that one time." she sat back down and let Anya finish her make-up.

"Well, we don't have dads, we just have Ma." he looked up at Indra, then back to Lexa. "And, well—" he climbed off the bed and stood in front of her. Lexa rubbed his arm, offered him a tender little look that melted his nerves. "I'm a man... and I love you just as much as Clarke does, I should walk you down the aisle." his chest puffed up.

"You love me as much as Clarke does?"

"Twice as much, at least."

"She loves me a lot, you know that right?"

"No one," he grabbed her hand. "Loves you as much as I do."

* * *

 

She was beautiful. Clarke knew that much and she felt like a blithering fool for not seeing much else. Her hair was pulled off her face in a plait and hung down in the back. Her dress was floor length and ethereal and swept out into a fishtail bottom and Clarke was on the edge of herself watching her move. Aden was beside of her, his arm wrapped around hers, leading her down the aisle grinning ear-to-ear with her war medals pinned to his chest.

"You promised you'd walk down the aisle to the Hawaii Five-O theme tune." Clarke blurted and earned a little shove from her mother.

"Nice job." Abby eyed her from her spot as officiator.

"You look beautiful too." Lexa smiled and swept these things under the rug, and she did, every inch of her was gorgeous. The way her dress hung off her shoulders and her heels peeped out of the bottom of her dress. It took weeks of wrangling to get her to promise she wouldn't wear crocs to the wedding.

"I-" Clarke looked her up and down. "You're-" she stuttered and blushed.

"Don't worry, I know that feeling." she handed her carnations off to Aden. "Shall we get this show on the road?"

"You've got another engagement at three-fifteen right?"

"I might be able to push it back ten minutes." Lexa leaned in and took her hands in her own.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Elderly Goodbye

_ Prompt:  _ _ Elderly clexa looking back on their lives at the very end. (Set in the AU wedding universe.)  _

_ Song: Hell Bent - Clara, A Sad Song. _

 

Warm rays of brilliant sunshine crept through the blinds and diluted the darkness of the hospital room. The monitors beeped in a constant rhythm and the sound was a symphony and Lexa had grown accustomed to its metronome. It had been months, she could have sworn it was nothing more than minutes and seconds and other tiny bits of time she could barely grasp at, but the changing of fall to winter reassured her it was in fact six months to be precise since the word malignant echoed around their doctor's office.

Lexa bent over the rail of the bed and pressed a kiss to the corner of her forehead. Her back hurt. There was a deep ache in the depths of her bones, but she kept herself there. Sometimes, she wondered if the birds that sung with joyful abandon and the city that grinded into a crescendo of sounds was reserved for those at the beginning of their lives. Maybe, tucked away behind hospital curtains, this was where they were supposed to be. She shook the sentiments off. They were coming towards the end of their eighties but there was still so much to do, though not nearly as much as what had already been done.

Clarke shifted, her wrinkled hand moving for the oxygen mask that hid her mouth from Lexa's kisses. Being this tired exhausted her to the core. She persevered, the children knew it was for Lexa. Lexa just saw it as Clarke being as stubborn and brilliant as she always was.

"Here—" Lexa gently pulled it over head head. "I've got you." she smiled and squeezed her hand.

"Too loud." Clarke swallowed the gravel and growl of her throat.

"Too loud?"

"I can hear you thinking." she wheezed, opened her eyes wide and bright. Lexa was aimlessly lost in the pools of blue. "It's too loud."

"Sorry." Lexa pressed her lips to Clarke's and squeezed her hands. "I'll think quietly, dear."

"Good morning." Clarke ran her hand down her cheek. Lexa was beautiful, the years could never change that. There was the long slope of her jaw and the infinite greens of her eyes and her hair was thick curls of pure white.

"Good morning." Lexa pulled the bed sheet back and started with their morning routine. She moved a damp warm cloth over the swathes of her skin, gently over the wires that burrowed into veins and vessels, beyond the sun-spots that mottled her knees, she saw none of it. Clarke was twenty-three and twenty-nine and thirty-two and brimming with the echoes of their life and that's the way they would always be.

"Do you love that girl?" Clarke grabbed her hand, quite suddenly, and whispered.

"Yeah, I love that girl."

"Good." she smiled and sighed, "That's good."

Lexa cleaned her up and patted her dry and did all these things with an expertise that came with loving someone for as long as she'd loved Clarke. Next, she grabbed the medical journals from the side table. Two decades had past since her wife had retired her scalpel, but the thirst was who she was and so dutifully, after the tumour turned the pages into blurry lines, Lexa read them page to cover for her.

"There's an article I'd like you to read, it's a case about a primary glioblastoma tumour located in the—"

"No." Lexa closed the journals and pushed her glasses up her nose. "We're not reading that."

"You should read it, Lexa."

"I'm not reading that." Lexa repeated and put the journals back down on the side table, chest puffed out and neck running flush. There weren't answers for these things. No objective measure of what the boundary lines were. This was one of them, she decided. Somehow, Clarke retained the upper hand and had accepted these things long ago. Lexa didn't, she couldn't and she wouldn't and that was that.

"Honey," Clarke reached over the railing and took her hand, forced her to pull her stare away from the linoleum floor. "We're so fucking old."

It fell on silence at first. Lexa bit the inside of her cheeks, tried to force a chuckle back into her chest but Clarke's titters tempted the chuckle from right out of her.

"We're so  **fucking** old." Clarke burst into wheezed laughter again. It hurt. She felt the gnaw in her lungs and hips and head and heart, but it was worth it.

"Yeah," Lexa recovered from the chuckles, scratched her neck and thought about it for a second. "We are. But you're still the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

"Oh you say that way too often." Clarke scolded her and earned a little grin.

The door opened tentatively and the trolley soon followed with their favourite doctor at the helm. She was young, barely in the middle of her internship. She had mousy brown hair and two slightly crooked bottom teeth and they were traits that reminded Clarke of Lexa in her youth.

"Hi guys!" she ditched the trolley and hurried over. "Dr. Griffin, I brought you the latest copy of the New England journals but I couldn't get my hands on the article about the bilateral globe irradiation." she placed the papers on the tray in front of her.

"Alex," her face wound into a disappointed frown. "what about the piece on pathology concordance levels for meningioma classification?" she huffed like a little kid.

"In English please?" Lexa crossed her arms and watched the two doctors back and forth.

"Just cancer stuff." Clarke smiled and suddenly, she was alive, as if the talk of her own mortal end somehow reinvigorated her like a phoenix. It felt like a despicable irony, her brilliant wife, neurosurgeon extraordinaire, reduced to a bedridden state from tiny glioblastomas that were slowly eroding her brain. But she would take what tiny moments of happiness she could get, and this constituted one.

"Will you explain to me again your border control method for tumour resection?" the young doctor edged a little closer.

"Honey?" Clarke looked up at Lexa in that desperate way. "Why don't you go take a walk and get some fresh air?"

Lexa conceded and grabbed her jacket and cane. Clarke was sharp and cogent and that was all that was necessary these days for a successful day. It deserved a muffin break and a walk around the department, she decided.

"Don't you go dying on me whilst I'm gone, Griffin." Lexa stepped towards the door.

"You're not the boss of me." Clarke wheezed after her through a smirk that weighed into her sullen cheeks and though she didn't know it, Lexa stood there and grinned right into the door frame.

Clarke talked at depths with the young doctor, it forced her brain to fire back and forth, remember and recall cases and patients she'd treated decades before Alex was even born. There was the case of brain worms she saw in Cambodia when she was with the programme, the boy with a nail lodged in her forehead and of course, the platoon commander who learned how to walk and talk again just so she could take her out for submarine sandwiches.

The phone continued to buzz in Alex's pocket and Clarke wasn't blind to these things.

"Is he cute?" Clarke raised her brow. "That's the seventh time your phone has vibrated, he's gotta be cute right?"

"The cutest." Alex nodded and frowned. These things frazzled her and Clarke empathised, it was never easy being twenty-something and in love. "He's just so… impossible!" she leaned back in the chair and clawed at the sides of her face.

"You gotta love that impossible person like it was the thing you were made to do."

"What do you know about impossible people." Alex raised her brow curiously.

"Lexa tried to re-enlist after I fixed her up. Believe me, she was the queen of impossible in her heyday." Clarke's lips widened with the memories. "I guess I'm getting my own back on her now, huh?" she bit her lip and held back tears.

"She loves you." Alex squeezed her shoulder.

"Kid, don't I know it. That old lady and me, we've lived through a thing or two."

"Has she read any of the pamphlets?"

"She doesn't need to." Clarke adjusted herself with the tiny last dregs of energy she had. "She knows how this goes, first I'll start forgetting things, then I'll lose my senses and next thing… well, you know what happens next." Clarke threw her hands flippantly, "But, today's not that day. Let's not worry her with the technical stuff."

"Sure thing." Alex nodded and the light caught her eyes in a way Clarke recognised, though she couldn't quite place it. "I should get going, I have rounds to finish."

"Okay Doc, don't be a stranger." Clarke waved her off and turned back to the pictures her failing eyesight could just about make out in the medical journals in front of her.

Lexa was waiting outside in the long corridor, muffin in one hand and her cane in the other. Her cheeks were red and her chest puffed with the ardour of her walk, gone were the days she could double back around on an entire squadron. Nonetheless, she had a raspberry and white chocolate muffin in her hand and that was today's tiny victory.

"You should've seen me, I got a new personal best today. Made it to the cafeteria and back in four minutes fifty-eight." Lexa showed off with a grin as the doctor closed the door behind herself. She didn't think herself fragile or old, two hip replacements and a pacemaker were just symptoms of how hard she lived. Her own mortality was a great beast she slaughtered every day and held up for all to see by the scruff of its neck.

"Grams…" Alex sat down beside her and Lexa had been preparing herself for this. It kept her up at night, though she'd never tell Clarke that much. "She still doesn't recognise me."

"Let's try again tomorrow, she'll be better—"

"Grams, she's getting worse." Alex squeezed her shoulder and wrapped an arm around her grandmother. "Pretty soon… she'll forget more and more."

Lexa shrugged her off and tried her best not to lose her temper. She squeezed the muffin in her hand and soon it was nothing but pieces and crumbs on the floor, she shook with a quiet rage and Alex didn't know how best to dodge it.

"She's going to be fine." Lexa's brows furrowed and she stormed back inside the hospital room, her cane working the tiles with a quick thump. She believed it, Clarke would be fine. Out of the two of them, Clarke was always fine, it was what she did best.

* * *

A week had past, that was all it took to make Lexa see the damage that was done. Clarke was fading and all she could do was cling to the ghosts of her, the memories that were remembered and the life they had shared.

"You promised you'd walk down the aisle to the Hawaii Five-O theme tune." Clarke stared just past Alex as she took her grandmother's vitals. Her eyes were vacant and her breath steamed up the oxygen mask, they all waited around the bed dutifully. The children and grandchildren dribbled in and out in turns to keep a watch over her, but Lexa was a constant.

"What is she talking about?" Alex put her stethoscope down. Lexa pulled her glasses off her face and wiped a rogue tear away, she'd sooner die than cry, it was a habit she never shook off. So instead, she held Clarke's hand, squeezed and rubbed her fingers and grinned in that way she reserved for her wondrous brilliant doctor.

"When I asked her to marry me, it took her three days to come up with the answer. She burst into our bedroom in the middle of the night with a list of conditions." Lexa explained, pushing the hair out of Clarke's face. "She negotiated our marriage down to the last detail, isn't that right?"

"—You have to promise not to reenlist, forever and ever." Clarke whispered and in her mind, she's there in that bedroom, they both are. "No more ruining that beautiful brain I fixed either, you've got to lay off the Budweiser." Clarke huffed and her eyes were a brilliant shade of blue. "Also, a dog isn't enough. I want a baby too, one day."

"Just the one?" Lexa raised her brow and chuckled, she remembered these things well.

"At least two."

"Three and you have yourself a deal." Lexa leaned over the railing and gave her girl the sweet stuff.

"Okay," Clarke cupped her cheek and began to drift back to sleep. "I'll be your wife, but you have to walk down the aisle to the Hawaii Five-O theme tune next time."

"Thanks," Lexa brushed her hand down silver hair. "Next time, I promise."

* * *

Two weeks passed and though she spent most of the day asleep, she knew that they were there. Her lips pulled and her eyes fluttered and it was all Lexa needed to know it wasn't the end just yet.

"Any good news?" Lexa flashed Alex a little look as she walked back inside the room with the scans she managed to wrangle from another intern.

"From what I can see, no." she shook her head. "I can't help but wonder… if this was someone else, if Grandma was still a doctor, do think she could she fix this?"

"You want to know the difference between me and your grandma?" Lexa swallowed and forced a sad little smile. The metronome of the monitors hummed away and instead of comfort, it taunted her. Alex waited patiently and eventually Lexa got past these burdens. "Your grandma knew which battles were worth fighting, I was just there to follow her."

"She loved you, grandma."

"She still does." Lexa glanced down and Clarke slept peacefully. She didn't know where the memory came from, or why it chose to show itself now, but it was right there in the centre of her mind, so close she could still smell her perfume. 

"Our first date, I still needed a wheelchair. I was real bad on my feet. Of course, four beers later I'm full of bravado and ask her to dance with me. We go to the dance floor, somehow I get myself out of that damn chair and I try to wobble over to her but my feet just give out beneath me. I land straight on my face… I had never felt so embarrassed, it was the damn closest I ever came to crying in front your grandma."

"Grams," Alex frowned.

"That woman," Lexa bit the inside of her cheeks and shook her head ever so slightly and she still feels it, sixty something years later. "She pulled me up, dusted me off and whispered in my ear; Hey, that was the best worm I've ever seen." Lexa's shoulders gave way to a tiny laugh. "I put my arms over her shoulders and she held me up and we just swayed. She was a fantastic lead." Lexa wiped away tiny invisible tears.

"You were a great dance partner." Clarke pulled her mask off and barely mouthed the words. "The absolute best." she wheezed.

* * *

Warm rays of brilliant sunshine crept through the blinds and diluted the darkness of the hospital room. It was a Thursday, the monitors beeping slowed and it was just about ticking over. It was a beautiful day, a perfect day to close her eyes and wake up young once again.

The kids had just left, they tried to stay but Lexa wouldn't have it. First off, Thursdays was their date day and second of all, this was her job right here. She didn't want to admit it, but these things made themselves clear with each laboured breath Clarke took. She'd skipped the crucial stuff, the forgetting all the important bits and losing all her senses, Lexa was grateful for that much. They found each in a hospital room and they'd say goodbye for now in one too.

"We had it all, didn't we?" Lexa kissed the tips of her fingers, held her wrinkled hand and saw nothing but stars in her eyes. "Thank you, for everything."

"N-num," Clarke tried to mouth, ached to get the words to roll off her tongue. "Num," she tried once more and her eyes grew into furious sapphires at the failings of her body.

"Try one more time..." Lexa nodded and held her hand.

"N-number." Clarke mouthed and her cheeks widened into a tired sloping grin.

"You want my number?" Lexa's eyes watered, Clarke nodded and for the first time in sixty-years, she watched her weep the happiest tears she'd ever seen. "I think you're trying to flirt with me." Lexa cupped her cheeks and kissed her in that gentle way.

Clarke closed her eyes, she drifted in and out of sleep, she was aware of few things except for the warmth of Lexa's body lying besides her. She heard the world outside, little things, important things. The sound of Lexa's voice. She hung on and waited, it felt strange to hang on to something, to know every breath was a conscious decision and every heart beat was laboured. There was one last thing to do and so she waited.

"I think I know why she's hanging on." Alex whispered.

"Yeah, why's that?" Lexa looked up from the spot she'd made home in the hospital bed, arms wrapped around Clarke, holding her tight.

"Do you love that girl?" Alex smiled.

"Yeah," Lexa's voice broke, she placed little kisses to the slope of her jaw and her lips traced up to her ear. "I love that girl." she whispered and Clarke let out a deep, peaceful sigh.

  
  
  
  



	3. Clexa Fluffy Smut

_ Prompt: Clexa fluffy smut. [AN: I've also added a 307 fix of my own volition; Lexa is still sore a week after getting her bullet wound patched up so Clarke naturally takes the lead and Lexa fights her for it.] _

 

_ Song: Carol Piano Cover - Carter Burwell _

 

The sound of tiny things like children playing in the last rays of the afternoon and stall traders going back and forth vibrated up to the tower. There was a peace to this, a certain hum that distracted her and though she tried to not think much of it, it felt like a lifetime ago when she was like the people in the square below. Back when she was somewhere between a healer and an artist but mainly just a girl who dreamed of more important things than leading her people. Now her dreams were filled with faces and her thoughts were full of ghosts, and for the last two weeks, only the sound of the children playing below could put down those fires.

Clarke leaned her elbows on the balcony, closed her eyes and took small comfort in the sounds of the citadel, minutes passed but she kept herself there. The warmth that came from the sunlight diluted into the gentle breeze and it was a small pleasure.

"Good morning, Clarke." Lexa interrupted with that measured tone that was distinct to her. She stood between the thin bit of curtain and the balcony, smiling ear to ear, bandages wrapped round her gut like she was a favourite worn rag doll that Clarke could sew back together at whim.

"You're impossible." Clarke smirked and meant to do the opposite. She shook her head and shielded her eyes from the sun with the palm of her hand. "What does bed rest mean to you?"

"Nothing if you're not in bed with me." Lexa limped forward and the pain gnawed at her gut like a deep and constant fire, hunched, hurting and pretending to do the opposite she took up residence beside her, holding her weight up against the bricks. "It is a beautiful day, we should ride to the river, there'd be things for you to draw there." she looked around before settling her eyes on Clarke's jawline with a content sigh.

"Don't do that." Clarke swallowed and felt her shoulders tense up.

"Do what?"

"Pretend that everything is normal, Lexa. You nearly died because of me." Clarke eyed her, quite seriously, and the tides of herself rose up into great waves, they smashed into the breakers that sat grounded in her gut and swept past the blues of her eyes and left a froth in the back of her throat. "I shouldn't be here in Polis, not whilst the blockade stands. It's dangerous for us to be seen together—"

"Hush." Lexa interrupted her ramblings, she swept her hand down long blonde wisps of hair and tucked them behind her ear. Clarke huffed and bit back the rest of it, she hated her for this, hated her for the way she righted the world with nothing more than a little whisper, how she touched her with this indescribable reverence—like she was something to be worshipped, she wasn't, she was just a girl who knew expertly from learning the hard way what it was like to have loved and lost, maybe they were both experts in that field, maybe that's why she didn't hate her at all. Not even a little bit.

"I nearly lost you." Clarke shook and barely kept it together. "I have to go back, Lexa. I can't risk losing you again, not like that." she bit her lips and somehow forced a rush of oxygen through her lungs.

"No." Lexa growled and stood a little taller.

"I have to—"

"No." she said again a little more quietly, softer, she took a step closer, her nose against her nose, her forehead against her forehead. "No, Clarke. I can't let you leave." she resigned herself to  little sigh.

"If I stay they will try to kill you again, they'll keep trying and they'll keep trying until one day they succeed." Clarke cupped Lexa's cheeks right into her hands, she felt her jawline grind beneath her fingertips, felt her brow furl and a lone fat tear run down to meet her thumbs.

"Then let them try. I won't let them keep us apart, Clarke."

Clarke groaned but her heart fluttered, it stilled the nodes of her heartbeat if only for a second, as if the left atrium forgot to empty into the ventricle and the whole thing might collapse in on itself. Lexa grabbed her shoulders and leaned into her, still uneasy on her feet, but Clarke was there to catch her and it was the only place she wanted to be between here and forever. "Why are you so stubborn?" she whispered and leaned her head against Lexa's shoulder.

"Because, I—" Lexa paused and her lip quivered with the weight of it all. "I love you."

"Say it again." Clarke lifted her head and her eyes widened.

"I love you." she whispered.

"Enough to risk your life?"

"Everyday for as long as you will stay by my side, Wanheda."

Clarke grabbed her in that necessary and visceral way, her hands worked over the entirety of her rag doll, though her deft fingers grew gentle and slow over the bandages that kept her together. "I love you too." she barely mouthed and pushed her back into the bedroom, toe to toe, lips to lips, pulling at the back of her bra until it fell away like the rest of her accoutrements. Suddenly, without warning, she was bare and Clarke's throat ran dry. She was beautiful, a monolith, her breasts ran into the curves of her waist effortlessly and the bandages did nothing to take away from her allure.

Like a silent protest at being accosted in such a manner. Lexa leaned in to deepen the kiss first, her hands found Clarke's soft cheeks and tilted them just slightly enough to work her tongue over her tongue. It was sharp and Clarke tasted like the stars she hailed from, like tall stories from her youth, like the smell of spring, it was all there. All for the taking.

"May I?" Lexa pulled away and looked up sheepishly, her hands working over the lip of Clarke's shirt.

Clarke nodded and it was all she needed, like a predator on the hunt, she tore it away and grabbed and pulled at every inch of flesh she could grasp and held her tight against the sinews of her own body. "You are beautiful, Clarke." she whispered with hot breath against her neck and took her down to the bed.

There was a wince and little groan and that was all it took for Clarke's ears to perk up. "Where does it hurt? Let me take a look." she shot up and pawed at the bandages and felt around the stitches and doctored over her like the chief healer, the same way she had done for the last week. Although, this time, her cheeks burnt red and Lexa watched her eyes flicker over the plains of her body, guiltily.

"I am fine." Lexa sat up from the furs.

"Let me check—"

"I am fine." she said a little more certain and grabbed Clarke around the waist, her kisses working over the grooves of her pale skin, right over her ribs, lips over her breasts, working her like a true expert in these diplomatic matters. "Do you doubt my prowess?" she looked up with a little grin and raised her brow.

"Never." Clarke closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Good." Lexa let the pride puff up her chest and returned to her sole duty. Her mouth found the buds on Clarke's chest and her efforts were rewarded with little choked moans and fingers scraping through her braids. She fumbled at Clarke's zipper, stumbled and fell over herself to remove the last vestment. Clarke wiggled out of them, freed herself and saddled her love.

"Is this better?" Clarke whispered, her skin against Lexa's skin, thighs over her thighs. She watched the need and desire spread over the plains of her expression like a sweeping wind, the living were hungry and Lexa was ravenous. Her arms worked against Clarke, attempted and failed to take her to the sheets and put her on her back where she belonged. She didn't go willingly. "No." Clarke whispered and ran her fingers over the Commander's collarbones.

"Beja." Lexa nearly pouted, nearly.

"No." Clarke softly chuckled. "You're still hurt, let me do the work."

"Clarke—"

"Next time." she offered a stern gaze and it was the final word. Outside of this room, Lexa was the defacto leader of all things, but inside this room, she bowed before Clarke's alter and worshipped. There would be a next time, she couldn't think much past that.

She shuffled to the headboard and gathered the pillows behind her back, somewhere between sitting and lying down whilst her sky girl waited patiently before her. "Comfortable?" Clarke raised her brow.

There wasn't time to speak, Clarke dove, her mouth pressed hot kisses over the plains of her skin, there was the mole that lived on her shoulder and the little scar over her collarbone and centre of her chest just above her heart, her breasts, golden and round in all the ways Clarke had remembered them so fondly, she left a trail of herself upon all of it, pressing hot plump lips to the Commander's skin, burning her alive with it all.

Clarke leaned into her center right between her thighs and Lexa's head lolled to one side and her neck arched with it as a little moan left her lips, she was ethereal and feminine in a way reserved just for her Wanheda; and she was on the edge of herself just watching.

"Tell me you love me?" Lexa whispered as Clarke moved lower, past her bandages and bruises and down to where her legs parted like a fork in the river. "Please?" she added with desperate eyes.

"I love you." Clarke smiled and dipped beneath taut thighs; it was her turn to worship at the altar before her, to bow again and again and praise the monolith before her in quiet pure reverence. "I do, I love you, Lexa." she whispered once more before putting her mouth to other uses.

She tasted sweet and warm against the kisses she pressed over her ripe center, maybe like autumn or dusk, there was tension at first,  uncertainty, soon she relaxed and Clarke watched her palms bunch the furs under the weight of her gentle ministrations and it was all she needed to take all of her and like a young colt wandering through the forest opening, Lexa was free and without imposition and Clarke saw it all in the shivers that ran rampant through her. Her thighs quaked and she dripped like honey into Clarke's eager and waiting mouth.

There was a deep purr and only them and the sun that crept through the bit of sheer curtain that separated them from the world outside witnessed it. Like fuel to a fire, Clarke moved faster, like a maestro she lead the full scale orchestra and worked her Commander into a symphony of little noises that belonged only to her.

"Clarke—" Lexa whispered, breathless and dying, arching until all Clarke could see were the peaks of her chest.

Clarke placed her hand on the side of her tight belly, gripping her fingers, holding her steady whilst she continued and it was all she could do to reassure her that this was okay, her life was about more than just surviving too.

Her thighs spread wider and Clarke took her all, fingers pressed deep and her mouth chasing her climax like a predator stalking it's prey. Lexa worked against her rhythm gently, pushing and kneading against her like a rising tide, like the swell of a river bank, like the moonlight that blurred the edges of night, it grew frantic and Clarke was right there to catch her.

Her peak came for her like an undercurrent beneath the waves and ripples of her pleasure and dragged her away from the shores of reality. She closed her eyes and buried her fingers into Clarke's back and left half crescent moons with her nails, shuddered and gasped and moaned like the last chuff of a wild animal and Clarke caught her prey, grinning right into her.

"Clarke…" she whispered from the pillows, splayed out and exhausted.

"Yes, dear." she grinned with foolish abandon at this little victory and climbed up her body, careful of her fresh wounds.

"You mustn't—" she paused and opened her eyes, concern working into her features. "You can't tell anyone—"

"Who would I tell?" Clarke asked quietly and nestled beside her, stroking her cheek, leant up against the pillows with her elbow.

"I've never," she coughed and looked around for something to ground herself with. "In our culture, a warrior—" she paused again and kicked herself for this display, sighing and rubbing her furled brow.

Clarke took her in her hands, stroked the cusp of her hairline and let her fingers work the stress out of her neck. "In your culture, I'm the Commander of Death, I'm your equal remember?" she earned a little smile from Lexa. "Even if I'm not, I'm your equal in this room... especially if I'm going to stay here." she flopped back down and took up residence curled into Lexa's side.

"Does this mean you wish to stay in Polis?"

"Well, I hear there's a river nearby that would be perfect for drawing."

  
  
  
  



	4. Lexa The Friendly Chip

_ Prompt: Lexa the friendly chip. [AN: A.K.A the shit I do for you kids.] _

 

_ Song: Carol Piano Cover - Carter Burwell. _

 

The forest was without the presence of the Polis guard as Titus had assured her it would be. Dusk had settled like a great blanket upon the thickets and dark smoke bloomed from the tallest point of the horizon, above the Polis tower and blurred into the night, though she rode on with little concern for these slights. The stars guided her home, from Orion's belt to Pollux and Andromeda, all walking with her towards the northern star forever out of her grasps.

"In four-hundred yards, take your next available right and continue for two miles." the muffled words rose from her shirt pocket.

Clarke sighed and rolled her eyes, digging her fingers deep into the lip of the pocket to pull out the metal sheath Titus had intrusted her with. Carefully, deftly, she removed the lid. "You're not funny." she whispered at the chip.

"Would it help lift your spirits if we sang a song, Clarke? The other commanders have quite the collection."

"Lexa, no."

"One thousand bottles of beer on the wall, one thousand bottles of beer," the chip vibrated in her fingers and Clarke closed her eyes and bit back the worst of herself, searching for the mute button. "You take one down you pass it around—"

"Lexa, stop singing."

"Of course, how silly of me, I should perform a song in my native tongue." she cleared her throat and Clarke put the chip back inside her top pocket and clenched her jaw. "thauz gafa a beir onthru brika, thauz gafa a beir…"

"Are you singing the same song in Trigedasleng?"

"...Yu teik won daun pass aroun, nain honet naidi-nain gafa a beir onthru brika."

"Lexa, I love you, but you're killing me." Clarke rubbed her furled brow.

There was a pause, like a blip in the signal, all there was, was the soft fuzz of blurred radio frequency and as it exchanged hands she heard small voices talk amongst themselves, little things, important things.

"Give me the—" the noise of a small struggle broke out and the chip hopped around in her pocket under the weight of it with huffed and panting breaths, "Give me the microphone!" the scramble continued and the noise of batting hands and wrestling fingers was all she could hear. "Give me the microphone before you fuck this up!" the voice rose and the fighting finally stopped.

"Lexa, is everything okay in there?" she raised a brow and pulled at the reigns of her roan.

There was a deep hum in thought before a new, foreign voice took control of the audio feed. "...Spotify users can pay 99 cents to upgrade to premium service for three months—a subscription that usually costs $10 per month. If you're on the fence about jumping from the free version of Spotify to its premium all-you-can-eat streaming—"

"Are you pretending to be a Spotify commercial, Becca?"

"Lexa is hyperventilating into a paper bag. I was just trying to buy her some time."

"Squad goals." Aden added in the background.

"What is Aden doing in there?" Clarke pulled the blue chip out and narrowed her stare. "And why is she hyperventilating, she's already dead?" she shook her head in confusion. There was pregnant pause and she heard the muffled sounds of them discussing inaudible things between themselves.

"There is much for us to discuss, Clarke kom Skaikru." Becca finally gulped.


	5. Clexa Proposal

_ Prompt: Canon clexa proposal. [AN: I added my own spin: Clarke jumped in front of the bullet and was rushed back to Arkadia's medical bay. Lexa follows through the dead of night to ask the Chancellor the most important question the Heda has ever asked.] _

 

_ Song: Cassandra Dies — DW. _

 

The room was vibrating, it hummed with a little noise that was unfamiliar to the commander's ears, shivers ran through her spine and she wondered whether it was a skaikru trick or the ghosts of brethren lost here. The bright light hurt her eyes and so she winced and kept them closed, she ran her tongue over her bottom lip and licked the taste of iron and salt and stretched the gnawing muscles in her neck.

"That," Lexa wiped the blood from her lip, "Is punishable by death." she eyed Abby who shook and heaved in front of her like a wild animal, the responsible fist trembling with the rest of her.

"Let's not do anything rash." Kane stepped between them entirely too late, "Heda, we are grateful you came to consult with us first." he handed her a handkerchief to stem her split lip. 

"Consult with us?" Abby's eyes narrowed and her voice was shrill. "How would you feel if it was your daughter being used as a bargaining chip? She is lying in a hospital bed  _ lucky _ to be alive. If anything had happened..."  Abby clutched her chest at the thought and it didn't need saying out loud.

"Clarke is—"

"Don't." Abby raised her finger at the young commander and she was powerless, victim to a mother;s wrath. "I bet you've never had to ask permission for anything in your whole life. The answer is no. I'm not selling my daughter to a warlord... even if it is the price of peace." she sneered and crossed her arms.

"I remind you that this is a skaikru tradition." Lexa stepped forward, "Once she is strong, I am free to formally ask Clarke with or without your permission." there was a little raise of her brow and it was intended as a challenge.

"I  _ just _ got my daughter back." Abby's voice betrayed herself and she pointed her finger right at Lexa. "I was in space and—and she came to the ground and ever since then she was too busy saving people to even notice I'm around and I have  _ just _ gotten her back from all of that." her chest heaved with the weight of it all and Abby couldn't contain it, palpable as it was, it choked the room and left it devoid of everything but her burden. "So no, Lexa. You don't get to ride in here on horseback with your army and make my daughter fall in love with the idea of you. The strong, beautiful warlord who will whisk her away from this life and keep her people safe. It's a lie and you know it."

"You are wrong, Chancellor Griffin." Lexa glared and chewed and huffed and suffered it all magnificently. "I will give my last breath to keep her people safe, because when we are wed, her people will become  _ my _ people."

"So this is political? Just a formality to quell a potential uprising against us becoming the thirteenth clan?" Kane nodded and tried to make these things easier to swallow, though it was a losing battle.

Lexa sneered and nodded her head, like an actress, a thespian at the most crucial part of the play, she made pretense of her indifference to such false accusation and colluded in Kane's efforts. Clarke was the sea and the sun and the moon and the wind, and she… she was just basking in the glow of it all, and so she would eternally without need or want to explain her truest motives to anyone, not even Clarke.

"Clarke is uniquely positioned to be of high enough station to wed. She is a brave warrior, respected and knowledgeable on the customs and politics of both our people, she will be an excellent advisor to offer me counsel and there is much to gain from such a union… she would be protected for the rest of her life." Lexa forced the rehearsed speech she'd prepared the entire ride here out of her chest. "Clarke and I, we could make a mark on the world."

"Do you not see how that makes what you're asking even worse?" Abby clenched and balled her hands, her teeth grinding into a crescendo of frustration. "She took a bullet from one of your closest advisors and nearly got herself killed, and you come here to talk to us about politics! You should be begging our forgiveness, not asking for favours. You don't deserve her love, Commander."

"You think I don't know that!" Lexa shook though she did her best to stand taller, "If you think," Lexa chuffed on her own disbelief for a moment and held it right there, looking at the ceiling and off to the vents for a tiny bit of respite. "If you think she could ever be so ordinary, so human, so beneath her duty to love someone like me then you haven't the slightest idea of who she is!" she paused and felt the truth of it simmer her skin and set her insides alight. "I love her and that much is true, but loving Wanheda, it's like admiring a sunset or loving the stars themselves, you don't expect nor do you ask them to love you back." her teeth gnashed and she did well to stop her eyes betraying the whimpering wild thing inside of her chest that shook at the mere thought of loving Clarke in the truest, purest form of the word. 

"I don't have much to give... but I can give her my title, I can protect her for the rest of her life and take care of her people and I want nothing in return. I want to marry her so that she may experience all the joy the world can give her, not so I can be the joy at the centre of her world."

"It's you who needs protecting… not me." a voice wheezed.

Clarke was there and ethereal and furiously alive and she did it all with a perfected poise that left Lexa breathless. Though she limped and ached, the sky clung to her with all its might, her skin was scrubbed clean and her hair was combed out and skaikru wires burrowed beneath the skin of her arm pumping drugs to where she needed them the most.

"Clarke, get back in bed!" Abby span on her feet and shooed her back like a mother over its duckling.

"Just—relax, Mom." Clarke shrugged her off and held her ground.

"Your mother is right, you should rest." Lexa deflated, pawing the back of her neck and barely looking in her direction. "I demand it."

"Since when did you argue with the sunset?"

"Clarke..." Lexa pouted and shot her a warning glance.

"Or the stars themselves?" Clarke stifled a grin.

" _ Shof op _ ." she whispered, tame and quiet.

"It's been a stressful day for everyone. Commander, I will have a room prepared for you. Please stay as our guest and we can all talk tomorrow when tensions aren't running as… high." Kane insisted.

"I will stand guard at Clarke's door." Lexa chuffed before faltering under Abby's acute stare. "...If I may?" she quickly corrected herself.

"You may." Abby cautiously nodded before taking Kane's arm to give them some privacy. "She has to rest." she leaned in close to Lexa and though there was a grit and a reluctance to her, this was a start, a common ground they both shared.

"You rode all the way here? It must have taken you at least two days." Clarke wheezed and clung to the pretense that she was above the gnaw of the pain that ate at the gunshot wound in her gut. Lexa knew better. She took precisely three steps to close the distance between them and with that she wrapped her arm around her waist and bore her weight and took her back to bed.

"I rode all the way here." Lexa swallowed and somehow kept the fibres of herself that threatened to fray woven together like a tapestry that existed solely to tell their story. "I… you were worse for wear, I had to know you were okay, Wanheda."

"I'm okay, I'm right here." Clarke stopped in the corridor just before her door and grabbed Lexa's sinewed forearm. Her thumb ran in little concerned circles and it unravelled the tapestry.

"I was terrified." Lexa wept and Clarke could do nothing but take her in her arms. "I—I'm sorry, Clarke." she bit it back and tried to pull away.

"Don't you dare." Clarke whispered quietly, refusing to loosen her grip. "You're allowed to be weak in front of me, you don't have to be the commander when it's just us."

"I held you in my arms and I didn't think you were going to—" she took a deep breath and bit her lip. "I care for you so deeply."

"Don't ask me to marry you." Clarke chewed and lied, gently letting go of Lexa's arm. "I love you, Lexa. I love you and if anything ever happened to you, it would kill me... I can't lose another, I'm sorry." she whispered it like a secret.

"Have you ever felt so certain about something you would rest your life on it?" Lexa swallowed and stared with those giant green eyes that could cast back the river swell. "I held you in my arms, all bloodied, and I knew I would have traded my life for yours in an instant." she shook her head and bit her lip, "I'm not asking you to marry me for any convoluted political reason more than simply because I am girl who loves a girl and life is about more than just surviving."

"Don't ask me." Clarke stood tall and lifted her chin, trembling.

"I'm asking." Lexa stepped closer and took her hand. "Be mine, Clarke. Be mine not just to bring peace to your people or assure their place, do it because love is enough and your life is about more than just surviving too."

Clarke fell into her, knees weak and mouth hungry, their lips clashed and it was gentle and necessary. Her hands found the commander's cheeks and held them just so, with long soft ringlets caught in her fingers. "I don't just go around taking bullets for anyone." she gently scolded her and rolled her eyes.

"Don't ever do that again." Lexa shook and she was furious and in love, holding Clarke so gently like she was a beloved ragdoll that had been sewn back together.

"I'll marry you..." she wrapped herself tighter around the commander and whispered in her ear, "but you don't get to tell me not to go around jumping in front of bullets for the woman I love."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Lexa grinned bashfully into her shoulder and dipped her nose against the paper tunic, somehow it smelt of Clarke, of wild berries and summer and it was close enough to taste. Clarke didn't see, but she stood there and grinned right into her, maybe for little more reason than because she loved her impossible sky girl and whilst the world relied on things of stronger resolve, in that moment, fleeting as it may be, love was enough and it reigned supreme.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
